


Lost Boy

by feminabeata



Category: Infinite (Band), Lovelyz
Genre: M/M, Peter Pan AU, Pirates, namu neulbo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-13
Updated: 2015-08-30
Packaged: 2018-04-14 13:13:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 20,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4565904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/feminabeata/pseuds/feminabeata
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All boys must become men one day, including Namu, the boy who swore to never grow up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Never

**Author's Note:**

> I was inspired to give the fairy tale theme another shot by dainuhsoar's latest [fic. ](http://www.asianfanfics.com/story/view/987523/if-i-wasn-t-meant-to-fly-infinite-woogyu)
> 
> Nam Woohyun is Namu (Peter Pan). There's also a Wendy and Captain Hook.

“You weren't supposed to grow up.”

The voice echoed inside the hollowed tree. Namu sat on the dirt floor, with his knees to his chest, rocking back and forth and chewing on the pad of his thumb. A candle flickered behind him, casting his shadow onto the wall, his mocking, jeering shadow. “You weren’t supposed to get older,” the shadow reminded him while it was pacing back and forth on the wall. Its long, dark fingers ruffled its hair in frustration.

“I know,” Namu replied, giving the pad of his thumb a respite. He might as well put it in his mouth and suck on it like the child he was being, or like the child he was supposed to be. But all children must grow up and put an end to childish behavior and thoughts. He was supposed to be the exception to that rule. He was supposed to be the epitome of youth, joy, the birdling that had just hatched from its shell. Every time he breathed, an adult was supposed to die.

But now he was holding his breath, fearful that with every inhale and exhale, he might be killing himself. _Better not to breathe at all_.

Namu gasped and coughed, having held his breath for too long. The shadow got on its knees and whispered by Namu’s ear, “Why are you then?”

“The island is dying,” Namu wheezed feeling like he was dying himself. “The magic is gone.”

“Why?” the shadow hissed.

Namu leaned away from the shadow and its cool breath grazing his ear. He threw his head back and stared at the ceiling of the wooden hovel he had carved in a tree. He had done it before the arrival of the other Lost Boys with the help of the fairies from the glen, which was now dim and empty and _normal_. “Because no one believes anymore,” Namu spoke barely above a whisper but it still echoed throughout the tree ominously. “No one believes in magic. They don't believe in things you can't see. They like realism now. And some strange new magic called science. Even religions are dying.”

“Realism?” the shadow stood up and repeated with a tilt of its head. “That doesn't sound like fun.”

“It isn't,” Namu grumbled as he picked himself up off of the dirt floor. He was walking towards the entrance of the tree, growing weary of this conversation. It was an endless cycle of reprimands and fears coming from the dark corners of his mind. He should just really blow out the candle and plunge the whole room into darkness, swallowing the shadow in it. But that would mean that he’d be entirely alone, and well, he didn’t want that either.

The shadow followed him along the wall, growing larger as it approached the candle, as did its voice. “You're starting to sound like an _adult_.” It was practically booming, vibrating the whole trunk of a tree. The last word was poisonous venom, making the leaves quake with fear and the hair on Namu’s neck stand on its end.

“I know. I know,” Namu brushed off the venom and stood in the entrance of his home. Feet apart, hands on his hips, eyes to the purple night sky, and a frown on Namu’s face. “Let's fly.” Tone as somber as a eulogy.

The shadow wrapped itself around the entrance and waved to get Namu’s attention. The growing boy looked over. “You can't fly if you aren't happy,” the shadow reminded him.

“I'm content.”

“That's not happy,” the shadow retorted and stuck out its tongue. Then the shadow slithered from the entrance and flew up the trunk, showing off. Spinning around and around the trunk like a toy train on a track, chugging along as it sang:

_“The Lost Boy has lost his boys._

_The Lost Boy has lost his toys._

_He used to have a Wendy as his mother._

_But she left, thinking him a bother._

_The Lost Boy has lost his boys._

_The Lost Boy has lost his ploys._

_He used to spend all day being tricky._

_But now he stays inside like he’s sick-y._

_The Lost Boy has lost his boys._

_The Lost Boy has lost his joys._

_While Hook lost life ‘n hand to the crocodile._

_Namu lost something even worse._

_He lost his smile.”_

Namu bared his teeth at his bully of a shadow, prepared to grab it when it next passed and storm back inside the tree to sow the damned thing back onto his shoes like Wendy had done. _Wendy_ …a twinge of sadness surged through Namu. Neverland was an emptier place without her, without all of them.

A twig snapped.

Namu immediately threw himself onto the ground. He hadn’t moved from the threshold, and shadows being the shadowy being they are don’t have enough being to snap anything, except for Namu’s waning patience. Someone else was coming. But who it was, Namu didn’t know because there was no one else in Neverland now, except for his single lost soul.

There was a chance that it could’ve been a small woodland creature bumbling about. But the footfalls were growing clearer as the mysterious beast came closer. The branches rustled as it paved its way through. And there was a faint clinking, metals clashing together. Small woodland creatures don’t carry coins in their pockets.

Luckily, Namu was able to catch his shadow and clamped his hand on its mouth. “Shut up! Someone’s coming!” Namu hissed. Crouching, he crawled to the tree roots and then clambered up the trunk, dragging the shadow behind him. Once safely in the branches, Namu let go of it so that he could hold the branches, anchoring himself as he leaned forward. He wanted a better look at the approaching monster. But through his squinting eyes, all he could see were the trees shaking as the beast brushed past them. It must be terrifying for the trees to tremble like that. A creature that nature itself hated.

“Who do you think it is?” the shadow whispered, also leaning forward and finally mimicking the actions of its owner.

“No clue,” Namu snapped back. But it was a lie. He had plenty of clues. The gold coins clanging. The flash of scarlet red. A low hum of a familiar tune. It couldn’t be. Snap! Namu flinched and ducked down, hiding behind the foliage. He was here. Namu motioned to the shadow to be quiet, but it already was holding its hands over its mouth.

The humming rose. The tune was accented by the soft thumps of the leather boots hitting the sod. The gold doubloons clanging in the pockets of the scarlet coat like castanets. Namu’s eyes slowly lifted from the worn leather boots. His heart picked up its pace to the beat of the quick tune. The hem of the coat brushed against the tall grass. Ba-bump. The golden buckles gleamed in the moonlight. Ba-bump. The wide-brimmed hat was tipped by a glistening, sharp hook. Ba-bump. Ba-bump. Ba-bump.

“Namu! Namu Neulbo?” the man sang along to the tune. “Are you lazing about in your tree, Namu Neulbo? Come out. Come out to play.”

 “Hook,” Namu growled underneath his breath. He gripped the branch tightly, feeling the bark dig into his skin. But he still hid, even in the presence of his nemesis. However that was because…

“He’s supposed to be dead,” the shadow exclaimed. Its hands gripped its dark head, mentally breaking down.

“I know what he’s supposed to be! Sh!” Namu retorted, placing his hand on the tree’s trunk where the shadow’s mouth was. He was wondering if he could sow it shut when he’ll sow the shadow to his feet.

“Are you surprised to see me? Namu, my boy?” Hook taunted below, walking up to the tree. Namu gulped and slowly nodded. As far as he knew, the pirate captain should be crocodile poop by now, food for flies. But this…was this a ghost? But the Captain looked too real, too material. And now the pirate was kicking the trunk of the tree. Namu could feel the vibrations from where he sat. The boy’s eyes widened in shock. The man was real.

“You thought the croc had finished me off, didn’t you?” Hook yelled. “The croc that wanted to eat me after all of these years. Well, it turns out he didn’t like the taste of my hook. I slit him from navel to throat and cut myself out.” He brandished his hook in the air. With each swipe, it flashed like lightening.

However Namu wasn’t scared of lightening or thunder or Hook for that matter. He jumped down from his hiding spot, landing roughly on the sod.  He fixed a smirk on his lips as he straightened himself out. “Pity, he didn’t finish you off,” Namu said with a snarl. “But I guess that means I get to kill you now.” He pulled out his trusty dagger that he had always kept at his side.

“That’s right, my boy,” Hook spoke while he drew out his own sword, raising his hook high in the air as he poised to attack. Namu’s fist clenched more tightly around his dagger and stood stiffly facing the pirate. It had been long since he had sparred with anyone. Suddenly, he was challenged with a duel to the death (because every duel that Namu and Captain Hook had was a duel to the death). Hook tipped his sword and dragged its tip in the grass as he circled around Namu. “Just you and…you?” he ended with a question, after having completed his circle around the boy. His jaw grew slack as his now round eyes looked the boy up and down.

 _He knows!_ The Captain knew that something was wrong with the boy, particularly that he wasn’t quite a boy any longer. Namu cleared his throat and raised his dagger, pointing it in between the pirate’s eyes. “What are you doing? Brace yourself!” he commanded. But his voice broke, giving himself away.

“You look different,” Hook stated. The surprise on his face was slowly shifting to joy, joy at his rival’s misery, the sweetest of all to a filthy and cheating pirate.

“N-no. No I don’t,” Namu adamantly denied, stomping his foot onto the ground.

“Yes, you are,” the pirate argued. “You’re taller! And…”

“Be quiet, old man!” Namu cut him off with a shrill shout, but his voice cracked. His tone wavered between high and low. Namu cleared his throat and then lunged, yelling, “And fight me!”

Namu had hoped that he’d catch the pirate off-guard, but Hook was easily able to ward off his blow, as if he were flicking a flea off his coat. Disheartened, Namu made a weak attempt, aiming for the captain’s stomach. Hook easily dodged it with a slight turn. Namu stabbed and stabbed again, but all that was at the other end of the blade was air; it never even grazed the pirate’s flesh or clothes. Suddenly Hook took a few steps backwards, withdrawing from the close-quarters combat. There was a frown on his face, not one of pain but one that pained Namu to see, a look of dissatisfaction. Hook tossed his sword onto the ground.

“And your heart’s not in it,” the elder grumbled, eyes on his downcast sword. He then looked up at Namu. “You’re _bored_ ,” it was like he couldn’t believe what he himself was saying.

Namu glowered and sneered, “I’m not!” He then got on his toes, poised to strike like a cobra. His dagger glinted menacingly in the moonlight. “I’m going to kill you,” he growled. Then, he feigned to lunge at the other, just to see what would happen. The captain remained planted in his spot, hands to his side and not even defending himself. The pirate didn’t even flinch. And the sword remained hidden in the tall grass. That was what infuriated Namu the most. “Wh-what are you doing? Pick it up!”

Hook sighed, “It's not fun unless you try.”

“You're an adult! What do you know about fun?” Namu combated with his dagger still raised.

Laughter filled the night air, mocking Namu like everything else had been that night. The captain finally raised his arms, only to shrug. “My boy, adults still can have fun,” Hook revealed.

“No. No they can't,” Namu stammered.

Hook took a step in closer, and Namu took a step back. A step closer, a step back. Another step closer and another back, until Namu had his back up against his precious tree. An evil smile slashed across Hook’s pale face, glistening evilly in the moonlight. “But what to do?” the pirate spoke in a low whisper. “I'm having fun right now.”

Namu lowered his dagger. “You are? Really?” He then cleared his throat and shook his head, dashing away any forbidden fantasies that had bloomed in his still young mind. “This isn't fun,” he snarled raising the dagger to the pirate’s throat. “This is torture.”

However, Hook wasn’t scared in the slightest and was still acting haughty. He still had the upperhand. “Is little boy Namu really toying with the idea of growing up?” he gave voice to all of Namu’s fears and fantasies. 

Namu dug his dagger into the other’s neck. “Never! I will never grow up,” Namu shouted, his voice echoing in the glen. That fortified his heart. The island agreed with him, the island was still his ally. It was still _his_. He could still have a never.

“It's too late,” Hook dashed all of his hopes. Namu lowered his dagger as the pirate took a half-step in closer, scrutinizing the boy with his dark eyes. He raised his hook and caressed the boy’s cheeks with it. The cool metal felt hot against Namu’s skin, embarrassment burning his whole body. The hook then followed Namu’s increasingly sharpened jawline and lifted his chin so that their gazes could meet. Namu could now see his own reflection in the other’s eyes. And he didn’t like it at all. “You're already a Twelvie. And you might even be past that,” Hook evaluated. He then dropped his hook, only to lean in and whisper into the boy’s ear, “And the rumor is that you forgot how to fly.”

Namu pushed the other off and away. “I can fly,” he argued. He felt a swirling in his gut, a bubbling that was slowly taking over his whole body. He began to twitch excitedly, starting with his toes, to his knees, to his fingers, to his shoulders, until it finally reached the top of his head. Happiness, when was the last time he felt this? He recalled every time that he had proved the ignorant pirate wrong: the first time he flew, the time when Namu had impersonated a pirate for months and Hook didn’t notice, and when he had saved Wendy and killed Hook. To this, he added one more. The happiness that he would gain proving the captain wrong once more at this exact moment.

Namu felt his feet leave the ground. “See!” he announced with some relief in his voice. He was no doing flips in the air, showing off. His usual childlike grin found his face again as he whooped and sailed around the tree. Once near the top of the branches, he tightened his hold on his little dagger and dove straight towards the pirate. “Now let's fight!”

“Alright then,” Hook agreed. His sword had found its way back to his hand. He raised it against the oncoming boy missile. “En guard.”

* * *

That happiness was a burst of light in a dark time, like a firework. It was beautiful. It was brilliant. It had filled Namu with such joy. But then…it vanished, leaving behind a trail of smoke, an image of what happiness once was. Namu fell into a depression once again, and things only became worse.

Namu was starting to grow too large for his bed. He hit his head several times against the ever-lowering ceiling of his dwelling. And as he seemed to grow larger, things grew smaller and less impressive. The mountains on the other side of the islands seemed more like hills and not as far off as they once were. The once bottomless lake, well, Woohyun could now touch the muddy bottom (with his head barely above water). The whole island seemed to be shrinking. Was it disappearing into nothingness? Has it finally reached the end of ‘never’?

At times like this, Namu needed to find solace and comfort in others. But who was there? He went to the campsite of the Indian tribe, but all that was left was the dying embers of their bonfire. Namu sat and watched until the red-hot coals grew cold, hoping that someone would come and stoke it. But no one ever did, and neither did he. He just let it die.

He then went to the fairy glen, which once was like a reflection of the night sky with lights twinkling everywhere you looked. Namu didn’t stay there for long. He couldn’t see. It was too dark.

With his spirits dampening, Namu decided to go to the cliffs and dampen his whole body. It had been long since he had last swum with the mermaids. And it would be even longer. Instead of beautiful mermaids with glimmering golden hair, he was met by fat grey blobs of blubber with rough whiskers. They called themselves manatees, but Namu called them ugly, retched, and then left.

The only company that he had left on the entire island, wasn’t desirable. The captain was becoming an increasing annoyance. The pirate kept trying to goad a indifferent Namu into a fight. Hook would infiltrate the treehouse, sometimes with Namu still inside, and still his knick-knacks. The dastardly man even stole his pan flute. However, now it was coated in dust. Namu couldn’t play. His heart wasn’t in it. There was no happy tune inside of him.

Hook even stole a long blade of grass that Namu had in between his teeth. Thieving pirates must thieve, and if Namu was the only one on the island, then he was Hook’s only target.

However, the pirate did steal something from Namu that bothered him greatly. Something that Namu wanted to get back desperately. It was a title, just merely a name, even if that, but Namu wanted it back all of the same.

Captain Hook stopped calling Namu “my boy.”

* * *

“Aish!”

Namu’s eyes watered as he felt the stinging pain grow. He roughly rubbed his eyes and returned to the task at hand, ignoring the tears still welling in his eyes and his shadow jeering at him.

Namu could recalled when the sharp blade of his dagger was used for slitting pirates’ throats. Never had he thought that he’d use it like this, the blade glancing at his own throat, drawing out his own blood. But he needed to do this. The shadow above his upper lip had grown darker. His skin itched as the new hairs sprouted and grew longer. Shaving. What need would a boy have for shaving? Was Namu even still a boy if he did such things?

He sighed and wiped away the blood trying to clot at the corner of his mouth. His hands were too shaky to do this properly and without hurting himself even further. But…but…anything was better than a boy with a mustache. And so he put the blade back to his face.

His shadow clicked its black tongue, watching the scene. “You know, there might be a solution for all of this,” the shadow spoke Namu’s thoughts aloud.

“Eung,” Namu grunted and glared at his own reflection in the mirror. With his newly shaven face, he looked years younger. He smiled. “We need a Wendy.”

* * *

Namu left soon after that. He didn’t wait for the sun to rise over the horizon. He didn’t want to wait. He couldn’t wait. The excitement from finding a new Wendy lifted his feet from the ground. He was flying high now, and while he was touching the fluffy clouds with the crest of his hair, he glanced back at the island. It was brown and desolate. The surrounding waters were grey. It was sick.

He sailed past the stars with his shadow at his toes. Zooming past the second star to the right, Namu flew until he could see the shining face of clock tower, greeting him with the usual frown that the clock always did. Namu crowed as he sunk lower so that he could peer through the windows of the large brick buildings that littered the city like tall trees. Namu frowned as he scanned the windows and he felt his feet sinking lower. Funny, all of the bedroom windows were either shut or barred. It was almost like parents didn’t want their children to be whisked away to Neverland.

“Ah! Finally! Perfect!” his shadow shouted. It pointed to a townhouse with its second story windows wide open, the white curtains fluttered in the night breeze.

Namu halted midflight. His feet landed softly on the railing. Once settled, he crouched down and peered into the window, hoping that inside wasn’t a baby or even worse, an adult. His grin widened as his dark eyes laid upon the slumbering youth in the bed. The milky white face shone like a moon in the dark room. Long black bangs stuck onto the round cheeks, flushed and begging to be pinched. Slight buck teeth peaked under the pink as the youth murmured in sleep. This was it. “Just look at how pretty our Wendy is!” Namu whispered excitedly. He glanced over at his shadow who only nodded back. “Oh so now you're silent. What's wrong? Shadow cat's got your tongue?” Namu teased his shadow. “Getting all nervous because Wendy is pretty? OW!” The shadow pushed him into the bedroom. Namu tumbled inside and landed on his bum roughly. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught his shadow flying over his head. “Hey! Come back here!” Namu called out at his shadow, scrambling onto his feet. He should be annoyed but he couldn’t help but to smile. This was exactly like last time. His shadow was being insolent, flying about the room, teasing Namu, evading the boy’s grasp whenever he tried to catch it. And now Namu had his back turned towards the foot of the bed, facing the looming shadow in front of him. He raised both hands and got on his tip toes creeping towards it slowly. “I'm going to...Got ya!” He grabbed onto the shadow. He actually caught it! _Now what?_ The shadow shrunk and reattached itself to the bottom of Namu’s shoes without a fight. Now it was a normal shadow, just like anyone else’s. “W-wait!” Namu cried, shaking his feet, trying to stir his shadow to life again, trying to shake it off. But it wouldn’t. The shadow was stuck onto him. “It isn't supposed to be like this,” Namu murmured as he waved his arms in the air and his shadow mimicked him. What kind of shadow follows the actions of its owner? Namu felt his eyes well up with tears. _No, no NO!_ He fell onto the floor as the tears began to stream down his face. He never thought that his shadow would leave him too. “It's not supposed to be like this. Why is it like this?”

“Sir, why are you crying?”

Namu sniffed and roughly rubbed away the tears before turning around. The youth had awaken, hair askew and eyes barely opened. “I...I'm not a sir! I'm a boy!” Namu argued.

“But...how old are you?” the youth asked, looking Namu up and down.

Namu squirmed under the other’s scruntizing eyes. He held onto his arms, hiding his growing muscles. “Old? Im not old! I'll never get old! I'll never grow up!” he fought back.

“Never grow up?” Good, Namu had the youth distracted. “But...how?”

Namu crawled closer to the bed, bringing his face closer to the other’s. He grinned. “Magic! Wanna see?” he asked with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

The answer came within milliseconds. “Yes!”

“Okay.” Namu crawled backwards off the bed and thought of all of the good times he had with his old Wendy and all of the future adventures that he’ll have with this one. He flew up so high that his head nearly hit the ceiling, but then he ducked down at the last moment and sailed around the bed and somersaulted in the air.

“Oh! What fun!” the youth was at the edge of the bed with starlight eyes, gazing up at Namu with pure amazement and joy. “I want to fly too! Can you teach me?”

“You can,” Namu announced, lightly landing on the wooden floor. He leapt over to the bed, landing right next to the other. He lifted up one finger and spoke in a low voice, “But under one condition.”

“What?” the youth whispered back, eyes searching the other.

Namu grabbed the other’s hand. “Come with me to Neverland and be my Wendy,” he proposed.

“A Wendy? What's a Wendy?”

Namu smirked, “A Wendy tells me stories and sings me lullabies and goes on great adventures with me.”

The youth leaned in closer. The stars in the eyes were twinkling with growing excitement. “What kind of adventures?”

“All kinds!” Namu responded back. “Swimming with mermaids, catching fairies and stealing their dust, fighting pirates, defeating Captain Hook in a duel to the death, having pow-wows at dusk with the tribe.”

The other’s jaw dropped while listening. “Sounds like so much fun,” the youth managed to say.

Namu stood up from the bed, still holding onto the other’s hand. “Will you come?” he asked. He was positive that the other would follow.

“But...” the youth began. The eyes strayed towards the door. “…my parents.”

Namu’s grin faltered. The last Wendy wasn’t this hard to convince, nor were her brothers. They were practically out of the window once Namu said that he’d teach them to fly. His grip tightened on her hand. “They don't have to know. It'll be a secret just between you and me,” he tried to goad the other.

The excitement quickly replaced the worry again. “A secret adventure?” the youth asked, slipping to the edge of the bed, gripping  onto Namu’s hand equally as tight.

“Eung! What do you say?” Namu asked, even though the actions were already speaking for themselves. The other was on her feet, walking with Namu over towards the window.

“Kay!”

* * *

This Wendy just might be better than his last. This Wendy ran faster, flew higher, and told amazing stories. What Namu liked best was his new Wendy’s voice. It was beautiful, angelic, healing, not only for Namu’s heart but for the island as well. Neverland was stirring back to life.

Fairies were returning to the glen and mermaids were splashing about in the shallows again, with no ugly manatee in sight. One night, Namu dared to enter the Indian camp after spying smoke from his tree. The tribe hadn’t returned, but Tigerlilly was there, stoking the flames of the campfire back to life. He, Tigerlilly, and Wendy spent the whole night dancing, chanting, and telling ghost stories by the fire. Wendy’s stories chilled him to the bone, giving him shivers even though the bonfire was blazing in front of him. But even with that, it was the best night he had in a long time.

What also made this Wendy better was the fact that new one never got jealous like the old one. The old Wendy didn’t get along with Tigerlilly, but this one braided the Indian princess’s hair. Same with the mermaids. The old Wendy hated whenever Namu went to swim with those beautiful sea creatures, but this Wendy was by his side, splashing along. They were friendly with each other, which Namu preferred over the possessive jealousy of the old Wendy.

However, later Namu realized that Tigerlilly and the mermaids weren’t jealous either. They all liked to think of Namu as ‘theirs,’ their best friend, their favorite playmate. When Namu asked them why they were jealous, both Tigerlilly and the mermaids responded in the same way: they laughed.

“There’s no reason to be jealous over this Wendy. So young.”

Neverland might have returned back to life, but Wendy didn’t stop Woohyun from growing. Wendy even made him new clothes. He also became increasingly aware of the age gap between them, especially when Wendy would accidentally call him “sir” and talk to him formally. It was the only fight that they had, but they had it constantly.

“I told not to call me that,” Namu snarled.

Wendy pouted.  A frown was unaccustomed on that moon-like face. “I also told _you_ not to call me ‘Wendy.’ I have a name,” the other fought back.  

Namu flicked a dirt clod in the other’s direction. “That’s only because you haven’t chosen a name for yourself yet. No Lost Boy goes by the name their parents gave them. It’s the rules.”

“Who made up the rules?” the youth fought back, wiping the dirt clod from the nightgown.

Namu smirked. “I did. This is _my_ island.”

The other looked away and laugh. “Kay.”

“What about that?” Namu suggested as he pulled himself up. The other looked up at him with a look of confusion. “You always say ‘Kay.’ Why not make it your name.”

“Kei?” the girl asked with her wide eyes. She nodded and grinned back. “Kay!”

And they both laughed, and they never had that fight again.

Even when that bubble of happiness should have burst, Namu’s heart only swelled greater. He came home to his treehouse with pearls that the mermaids had gathered for Kei, but the hovel was empty and ransacked. Yet nailed above his bed was what he had been anticipating, ever since he had brought Kei to Neverland. It was a note, written on vellum the ink and scratches from the quill were fresh:

**Namu Neulbo,**

**I’ve taken your precious Wendy. You know where to find me.**

**Captain S. K. Hook**

It was only a matter of time until Hook involved himself in their play. Namu’s pain was his pleasure. But this kidnapping had an unexpected outcome. Namu was happy. Very happy. Things were going back to the way they were.

And Namu did march straight over to the pirate ship in the bay and fight Hook. Oh boy, did he fight…and fly! It was fantastic. It was like old times. Kei was tied up to the mast with ropes and a cloth over her mouth, muffling her screams. There was a sign around her neck that read, “I hate you, Namu!” Namu had to admit it was a nice touch on the captain’s part. And when Hook had him backed up onto the plank, there were even sharks circling in the waters below. Of course Namu only had to fly out of danger, but it wasn’t a problem any longer. Happy thoughts were coming to him easily now. He had even given Hook a nasty gash on his forearm. Now if harming his mortal enemy didn’t give him immense joy, Namu didn’t know what would. With that joy, he was able to fight with more vigor than before (and maybe his newly developed muscles were helping him out as well. Turns out growing up did have some advantages). Namu easily won and took his Wendy home.

But…the pirate did not only kidnap Kei. The villain did something far worse. He poisoned her, he poisoned her in the worst way possible. His venom soaked into her mind, turning her against Namu.

“Namu, I have to go home,” were the first words out of Kei’s mouth once they were back inside of the tree.

Namu whipped his head about the hallow. “B-but we are home,” he stammered in confusion.

Kei sighed, sadly. The stars in her eyes shone with pity as she approached the boy, her nightgown swishing with every step. Once in front of him, she lifted her hands to his cheeks wiping away the tears that Namu didn’t know were now raining down his face. At this moment, he finally felt younger than her. Maybe age wasn’t the only thing that made someone ‘old.’ There was something about the tender look in Kei’s eyes, the understanding in them. Whatever that was, it made her older than Namu by many many years (the word that the boy was looking for but did not know yet was ‘maturity,’ but how would he know such a thing? That quality did not exist in Neverland).

“I have to go home,” she repeated. Her voice cracked as the stars in her eyes shone brighter and shot down her faces in streams. “I have to grow up.”

“No, you don’t!” Namu argued, tearing her hands off of his face. But he still held onto them tightly, bringing them to his chest. “If you stay here, you don’t ever have to grow up. This is Neverland,” he whispered. She had a choice, but who would choose to grow older over eternal youth.

“My parents,” Kei mumbled through her pursed lips, trying to keep back the sobs. Her eyes were downcast. “My family. I miss them. I have to go back to them. I’ve been away for so long. They must be worrying about me,” she broke out in a great sob before continuing, staring Namu directly face-to-face, “And I have to take care of them. They need me. I have a responsibility to them.”

“Responsibility?” Namu scoffed, dropping her hands. He grinned his greatest, cheekiest smile, trying his best to saude her. “Who needs ‘responsibility’ when you could have adventure?”

“I do,” Kei immediately responded, breaking Namu’s heart and spirit. “Being an adult means accepting responsibility, and…” She shut her eyes tightly as she blurted out the last part, “And I want to be an adult!”

She said it: the five-lettered word that Namu hated the most, the one that was taboo on the island. He even had a jar in the corner of the hallow, where the Boys used to put coins in, if they ever spoke it. However, saying it was one thing. Namu could deal with that. Wanting to be one, well, that was incomprehensible to him.

“Get out!” Namu shouted, pointing at the door. “Get out! I never ever want to see you again!”

However, Kei did not leave, or at least not quite yet. She stepped closer to the boy panting angrily and soothed him with hushes. Namu didn’t know why she was treating him so gently if she was just going to leave and grow up. But leaving on a ‘good note,’ wasn’t a notion that he was acquainted with yet, trying to leave someone with only good memories and thoughts of them. It cuts the sadness of the parting and gives a hope, no matter however slight or impossible, of them meeting again, and meeting with smiles on their faces.

Once Namu calmed down, Kei got onto the tips of her toes, brought her moon face to the other, and gave the boy a short but sweet kiss. Namu just stood there, frozen solid out of shock and confusion. Kei, however, gave no reason behind her actions; she just smiled. “I won’t ever forget you, Namu,” she whispered to him like it was a secret shared under the covers at night. Kei then took a step back and waved farewell to the boy rooted in his tree. “Goodbye! I’ll miss you, Namu. Everyday.” She then turned on her heels and flew out of the entrance. She flew back home.

Namu stood there, shaking and quivering like a leaf in the wind.

“No, you won’t,” he chanted under his breath. They never missed him. They always forgot about him. They always did. Because if they didn’t, he wouldn’t be alone right now.

* * *

When Kei left, Namu was despondent, and winter had come over the island. The trees had shed their leaves. Frost encased the branches and the waters. Everything was dead, except for Namu, who was breathing slowly, laying on top of a fresh pile of snow under his tree, staring up at the skeleton-like branches. The puffs of clouds floating from his lips were the only signal that he was, indeed, alive. His eyes were wide open, but there was no light in them.

“Aha!”

Namu slowly lifted up his head and propped himself onto this elbows, only to see Hook clumsily leaping over a snowbank. The pirate held his frosted sword up high and his breath billowed out of his mouth like smoke. But after a brief survey of the seen, the captain immediately knew that something was wrong and lowered his weapon. “Wait…where’d she go?” he asked.

Namu sighed and plopped back down onto the soft snow. He shut his eyes tightly as he answered through gritted teeth, “She’s gone. She’s been gone for a _long_ time. And she’s not coming back. Wendy’s never coming back.”

The snow next to him crunched. Namu looked over to see the pirate sitting next to him, staring off at the distance. “I should have known. The island is mourning her,” Hook murmured under his breath. He then looked down at Namu, seeing the icing tear tracks, frozen onto his cold face. “You are too.” The pirate then took a deep breath in and fixed a smile onto his face. “I guess that game is over. How about we start a new one? I have this new hook I’d love to flay you alive with, like docile little lamb,” he gently threatened, waving his hook into the air.

Namu turned onto his side and away from the other. “No.”

“No? No?!” Hook repeated while laughing condescendingly. “Does Namu really not want to play?”

Namu flipped over onto his other side, glaring at the evil pirate. Fresh, hot tears were melting the icy tracks on his face. “Leave me alone!” the boy growled. “Why are you still here? Everyone is gone. The Chief, his tribe, the fairies, the mermaids…the boys. Everybody! Even Wendy.” He paused and huffed. Then he added, “You don’t even have a crew anymore.”

The smile wasn’t wiped away from the pirate’s face. It was frozen on, just like Namu’s tears. “True,” Hook admitted in a low voice. His gaze then met the other’s and his tone grew grave. “But because you’re still here, I’m still here. As long as there’s a Namu, there’ll be a Captain Hook.”

Namu sniffed, rubbing his eyes with his cold hands as he sat up. “Why is that?” he asked.

The captain shrugged. “I didn’t make up the rules. This isn’t my world. It’s yours,” he finally admitted after all of these years of fighting and pillaging. “As much as I try to claim it as my own, it’s still yours. And I’m just a filthy pirate trying to make it mine.” He then chewed on his lower lip and cocked his head, wondering if he should reveal the next part (however after all of his years with Namu, Hook knew it was fruitless to hide things from the other. The boy always found out). And so he confessed, “And _that_ was the real reason why I could escape from the croc. I didn’t claw my way out, like I said I did. He more or less…spat me back out.”

“Pbft.” Hook looked down to see Namu’s eyes disappear behind his rising cheeks and an immense smile growing on this face. The boy broke out into a roaring laughter, clutching his sides with his arms and rolling about in the snow. “He threw you up!” he squeaked out between laughs.

The pirate frowned and quickly answered, “Yes, he threw me up.”

Namu clambered up to his knees and pointed at the other. “You must’ve made him sick. You must’ve tasted disgusting. You vile creature!” He broke out into another peal of laughter, folding over himself. “You’re worse than garbage. And I’ve seen that croc eat garbage. But he didn’t want to eat _you_.”

“You missed the point,” the captain grumbled under his breath.

“No, I understand,” Namu wheezed. He then shifted, moving from resting on his knees to sitting on his bottom, sinking deeper into the snow. His smile was still bright, like the sun that was shining down on them now. But then his smile became restrained as he spoke in a serious tone, “I understand completely….I must be fighting against you in more ways than just one. You represent growing up, my biggest enemy. You’ve always been the oldest on the island.” It was true. He was even older than the Indian chief and the rest of his crew. The captain was 32, which meant that he was not only 30, but _over_ 30\. The pirate seemed to be several feet taller, with an aged face and spoke words that Namu had never heard of before. But now, Namu glanced over at the captain who was rolling the snow into a ball with his long, white fingers. His lips were pursed in concentration. There were far fewer wrinkles than he remembered, creasing that round face. Speaking of his face, Namu was almost level with it. He was almost as tall as the other now. The boy smiled out of helplessness. “But now you don’t look that old. Seems like you have some growing up left too.”

The snowball fell from the pirate’s hands and landed in the snow with a soft plop. Hook pointed at himself. “Me?! What do you mean me?” Namu nodded while giggling again. The captain scoffed. “I am a full-fledged adult. I’ve had plenty of experiences. I have a ship. I have…had a crew. I have a sword!” Hook shook the sheathed sword at his side for emphasis.

Namu let out a grand breath and watched that cloud lift into the sky, following the path Kei had taken to Reality. “Being an adult means accepting responsibility,” Namu repeated her words. He then faced the pirate, resting his chin on his knees. “You’re a pirate. You’ve been fleeing from taking responsibility for your actions for your whole life.”

The captain stared at the other with his jaw unhinged, his fist gripping at the hilt of the sword. Namu was almost positive that the other was going to unsheathe it or at least threaten to, but what happened next was new and unexpected. The pirate smiled and reached over to ruffle the younger’s hair. The icicles in his hair clinked against each other as the captain did so, sounding like wind chimes. “Where did you learn that, Namu?” Hook asked.

“Kei.”

Hook removed his hand and his gaze from the other, and looked up into the sky. Snow was falling again. “She’s a smart woman. Do you think she grew up already?” he mused.

Namu nodded, “Even when she was here, she was already an adult.”

* * *

That was a turning point. And now everything was spinning. Namu’s view of the world was shifting, turning on its axis. He was looking at things from a different angle, gaining perspective. Not just his own, but he was now able to view matters from several perspectives. Maybe the frog was scared when he suddenly snatched it up and threw it into his satchel and maybe that’s why it kept trying to jump out. So he let it go. Maybe the manatees didn’t like it when he called them fat and ugly (even though it was the truth) and that’s why they would blow raspberry’s at him through their thick whiskers and sulk away. He was finally starting to understand.

And with a newly found understanding came revelation and clarity. He hated Captain Hook. Namu had hated him with his entire being. After all, they were sworn enemies. Isn’t that what you’re supposed to feel towards them? But now, that didn’t seem to be the case, for the Captain at least. How many times did he stop by Namu’s tree just to exchange bantering words and empty threats and his underling Fat-One-Eyed-Brain-The-Size-Of-Tinkerbell’s-Shoe Tom would accidentally leave behind his satchel of food, which then the Lost Boys would consume ravenously? Out of all of the several Toms on his crew, the Captain hated that one the most (in fact he was the one who came up with the epithet), but if Fat-One-Eyed-Brain-The-Size-Of-Tinkerbell’s-Shoe Tom was good for anything, it was unsuspectingly leaving behind food. And how many times had Captain Hook have Namu on the brink of death, sword against the boy’s neck, but then suddenly go into a long diatribe? Namu remembered clearly the time the Captain had given a 15 minute long lecture about proper dental care so “You can die with a pretty smile on your face, my boy.” Namu had assumed that he was just being a no-good, nagging adult, but now he realized that the tiresome monologue gave the Lost Boys enough time to wiggle out of the pirates’ hold and rescue him. How many times had Hook pulled Namu away from the jaws of the crocodile, claiming that he wanted to finish the boy off himself? How many times had he invaded Namu’s tree, while the boys were sleeping and rain was pouring down in heaps, just to put blankets over them and steal something frivolous? How many times had they “fought”? How many times had they played together? How many times…how many times? Too many to count.

It didn’t seem like Hook hated him at all. No, it seemed like the old man was…fond of him. And how did Namu repay his feelings and veiled kindness: he had tried to kill Hook and almost succeeded (not to mention he had disabled the man for life).

A horrible feeling overcame Namu. His stomach churned. His face grew hot. His limbs became anxious and agitated. His mind whirred a mile a minute, reviewing all of the grievances he caused the Captain. Namu didn’t know it at the moment because he had never felt this feeling before, but what he was experiencing was guilt, immense guilt.

However, what he _did_ know was that it wasn’t too late to make amends. This time he could save the Captain.

* * *

Namu ran to the bay as quickly as his feet could carry him. He had to do this before he changed his mind. It was going to be the last impulsive act of his youth. Once he reached the ship, bobbling amoungst the gentle waves in the harbor, it only cemented the decision in his mind. The ship now seemed so small. Before Namu swore that the ship had fifty cannons on both sides, that the sails were as big and dark as storm clouds, but now he only counted ten cannons in total, and the linens had been bleached by the sun. It was far less impressive than he remembered it being. It almost looked sad.

He walked on the creaking ramp to board the ship. It was different than he remembered too, or was it that he never truly noticed before? Whenever he had come before, he had been so fixated on dueling the pirate that he never took in his surroundings. There was a mop and a bucket discard alongside the railing and the floor was only half cleaned. It was as if someone started to mop up the deck, but then half-way, decided that it was too much effort and abandoned it. Everything was like that: repairs half-done, sails half-tacked, cannonballs half-stacked. It was growing increasingly obvious that this ship had a crew of one, and it was growing increasingly difficult for that one man to maintain.

But where was that one man? Namu barged into the captain’s quarters, only to find Hook with his boots kicked up on the desk, playing with a toy ship in his hands, acting as if it were sailing in the waves of the air. The man was even making noises for his ‘firing’ cannons. Namu let out a grand sigh. This man was the oldest in Neverland? How?

The captain must’ve heard the sigh. His head shot straight upward. His eyes grew wide in shock. “Namu, what are you…” He then cleared his throat and struggled to stand up quickly. With the toy ship still in his other hand, he lifted his hooked hand against the intruder. With a low growl, he yelled at the other, “I mean, aye! Avast! You come aboard my ship without my permission. You must have a death wish, my…Namu?” The words caught in his throat when the other approached him with no dagger drawn, no sharp words, completely defenseless. The elder’s eyes scanned the other carefully. Namu had grown older since the last time they met. He had matured on his sprint over to the bay. He was in his mid-twenties now. He wasn’t a boy any longer.

“Let’s go,” Namu spoke lowly, having a hard time squeezing those words from his throat. His whole body was fighting against it, but his mind was already resolved.

The pirate lowered his hook. “Huh?”

“Let’s give up and let’s go,” Namu said again, with more urgency this time. He was bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet, pacing about the room. He was growing anxious, and afraid. “Let’s go before I change my mind!” he shouted, hoping to get the damn pirate to move, to do anything other than stand there and look at him with his mouth agape.

“Go where? Where can we go?” Hook either still didn’t understand what was happening, or he couldn’t believe it.

Namu was reaching the end of his rope. “You must have maggots for brains. Where do you think?” he fought back. He then stomped over to the pirate, grabbed his forearm with both hands, and shook it, hoping to stir the other. “The other side! Let’s go!” Namu yelled, even yanking on the other, but Hook wouldn’t budge.

The pirate narrowed his gaze on the younger. “Why should I go with you?” he asked as he tore his arm away from the other’s grip. He took a couple of steps back and began caressing the polished wood of his desk, stroking the astrolabes and the maps littering it. “I don’t want to…this is mine,” he spoke under his breath.

“I’m not leaving you behind,” Namu announced, walking up next to the other. He waited until the captain lifted his gaze to meet his. “There’s no Captain without Namu, so if I leave…”

“I die.”

Namu shook his head and made a weird, strangled noise, bubbling from the back of his throat. “Worse. You don’t exist,” he clarified and watched the realization sink into the other. “Now let’s go! Put this stupid thing down and take my hand.” Namu ripped the toy ship from the other’s hand and placed it on the desk. He then outstretched his hand to the other. If the other wanted to be wiped away along with Neverland, if Hook didn’t want to accept the salvation that Namu was offering him, there was nothing that the boy could do.

The pirate stared down at the hand. “Don’t you want me to die?” The man had a point. They were mortal enemies, and Namu could finally succeed in destroying him. Namu could finally win. But…Namu swallowed hard, recalling everything that he had finally _understood_. While he couldn’t say for now that he liked the pirate, there was something that Namu could admit.

“I _don’t_ want to be alone,” Namu confessed. That was something that he hated more than Captain Hook. That was his greatest enemy. “So, come on. Please? Let’s go. I don’t want to stay here anymore.”

Captain Hook smiled and wrapped his hand around the other’s. “Neither do I.”

* * *

The two of them left the quarters and ascended into the air. Thoughts of a blossoming future and new adventures filled Namu’s mind and gave him hope and happiness. As he turned around to make sure that the pirate was still with him (he was, but it seemed like the old man was afraid of heights), Namu saw the demise of Neverland. He saw the island being swallowed into the purple sea, the mountains crumbling, and the treehouse, his home, disappearing into nothingness.

Namu bit his tongue, fighting back the feelings that would threatened to bring him down with Neverland into that sea. Instead, he focused forward on the stars, on Reality approaching him quickly. He focused on his bright future and on the possibilities that he couldn’t even imagine yet.

And finally, he was happy that he was going to grow up.

* * *

**A/N: the next part will take place in Reality**


	2. Ever

Clouds, fluffy white puffs floating against the light blue sky. There was no canopy of tree branches blocking his sight, no sea breeze brushing against his skin. There were only white clouds in ambiguous shapes. It was the first thing that Namu saw.

He quickly propped himself onto his hands, palms scraping against the rough stone underneath him. Where was he? He twisted his head around, searching for the answer. And that’s when he noticed, his shadow, his closest friend and most loyal follower. Namu raised his hand to wave at it. And it immediately waved back. Namu sighed as the shadow began mimicking his every move perfectly, even when he hit himself in the head or blew a raspberry. His shadow was only a shadow cast against the cement foundation for a statue. Namu sighed and drew his gaze upwards.

He stood up, and circled the statue to study at it more carefully. His mouth fell open, dumbfounded. It was a small bronze statue of a slender boy dressed in leaves, playing a pan-pipe, with his sharp nose pointing up to the sky. It was him. He just knew it. He didn’t know what he was already doing here in this strange place, where he had never been, seen, smelled, tasted, breathed. It was utterly unfamiliar, except for this. There was this pulling feeling in his gut, drawing him towards the bronzed child. Something had brought him here and brought him here to see this purposefully. Whatever omnipotent or omnipresent power that was out there, controlling things, constructing destiny together from random pieces of fate to make one coherent and beautiful…statue of a little boy. Namu reached up and touched the small feet carefully with glancing fingertips, as if he was afraid of getting burned. But it was cool to the touch. Cold, distant. Namu didn’t look like that boy anymore. Nor was he in Neverland anymore. This was a reminder of that. But _where_ was he now?

“Hook!”

Namu swung his head around, searching for his companion. But for all his eyes could see, there were only bricks and flowers. There was no pirate, laying amoung the lush flowerbeds, or at least Namu thought not. He could not see the plume of the captain’s hat nor the tips of his pointed boots peaking about the petals.

Namu’s throat tightened as his heart began racing. His eyes scanned his surroundings desperately. He didn’t come alone, but why was he alone now? Did the pirate’s hand slip from his grip as they flew over? No, Namu remembered gripping the hand tightly as if his life depended on it. He remembered squeezing it as he saw the glowing face of the clock tower, chiming in their arrival.

That’s when he got hit.

A goose had flown right into his chest, crushing the wind out of his lungs and knocking all of Namu’s happy thoughts out of his head. And so Namu tumbled to the ground, trying to grab at whatever he flew past, trying to think of hope and happiness. But he was weighed by his doubt, pulling him closer and closer to the Earth’s surface until he crashed against the flowerbeds. Namu turned his head to see the bent and broken stems of the flowers he’d murdered the night before. “Sorry,” he muttered under his breath as he touched a tortured daisy near him. He tried to straighten the poor flower back up, but the daisy just drooped its heavy head again. Namu could practically hear its sigh of defeat. He sighed along with it.

He had lost. He had lost the person that he had sworn to save. And right now, he was at a loss as to what to do. His body was as stiff and solid at the bronze statue, his spirit as broken as the daisy. Coming to grips with Reality was supposed to solve all of his problems, but now he was facing dilemmas greater than he could handle.

“Are you sure that you saw something fall down here?”

That sudden voice dragged Namu out of his whirlwind of self-doubt and summoned his instincts. He crawled on all fours to crouch behind the base of the statue. His hand flew to the dagger, still slung low around his waist.  He stayed on the ball of his feet, ready to spring like a cobra against whatever pirate comes his way.

“Yes, M’am. I saw it with my own two eyes last night. A large bird fell from the sky. Just this way! C’mon!”

“I hope it’s alright.”

Clink. The dagger slipped out of Namu’s now slackened grip, hitting the brick underneath him. That wasn’t a pirate. That was a woman, an older women. By the sound of her voice, the timbre and the understanding, she was even older than the oldest person he knew. Namu lowered himself away from his ready position to sink listlessly on the ground. It was Reality. There was only one pirate, if he was still alive.

Once the clicking of the woman’s heels against the brick sounded closer, Namu spun around, back to the base, eyes shut tight, panting heavily. With every breath he exhaled, he wished that she would just disappear, that he would too, that he had never left Neverland.

“It’s you.”

Namu slowly opened his eyes and gazed up at the kind, moon-like face shining down on him brightly with a gentle smile. Her greying hair glinted in the sunlight like a shimmering Milky Way on earth. Her eyes became glimmering crescents as a smile grew wider on her face. With a soft voice she whispered in disbelief, “You don’t remember me, do you? How could you? It’s been years and…I…I thought you were just a dream.” The woman knelt down next to him and with tentative fingers, touched his cheeks. She acted as if she were touching a ghost, as if she had expected her fingers to pass through the specter and he’d dissipate into the air. But he didn’t. She could feel the warm skin under her cold fingertips. The woman gasped.

Namu leaned away and leaned against the statue’s base for support. His cheek dug into the abrasive concrete. It was uncomfortable, but so was the fact that his heart was hammering away in his chest and that there was no enough air in the world for him to breath in. His hand searched the ground behind him for his fallen dagger.

However, but something clasped around his hand, holding it tight. The woman’s face was only inches from his own. She squeezed his hand in her own. “Namu, it’s me,” she spoke softly to him. “Kei.”

“K-kei?” Namu repeated. His eyes searched her aged face, and in his mind’s eye, he smoothed out her wrinkles, painted color back in her hair, and gave her back her youth. Kei smiled and nodded with a weak laugh. Namu’s eyes widened. “Kei?!” he raised his voice. He couldn’t believe it. She hadn’t left the island for that long. She was younger than him, by several years, but now… _but now_. Tears were streaming down Namu’s face. Everything he had been feeling, had been holding back since he’d waken up came pouring out in droves. He lunged forward and wrapped his arms around her neck, burying his face in her shawl, using it to mop up his tears.

“Kei…”

* * *

Kei took Namu into her home, which was not inside a tree, but it was taller and made of brick. It was strange. Namu didn’t care for it much. The walls were coated in floral wallpaper, and there were frills everywhere, including things Kei called _doylies_. And there was a lot of things it didn’t have: fresh air wafting through, the comforting rustle of leaves, and no toys. But it was his home now. And with the new home came a new name, a new family, a new life. But each came to him one by one.

Kei was the first to start a new life. After she had left Neverland, her parents had arranged for her to marry a son of a wealthy business owner. The man had invested in some strange invention called ‘automobiles,’ which, against Namu’s instincts, did not run on pixie dust but something slick and poisonous, gasoline. This was a realm of science not magic. That was a fact that he’d constantly had to remind himself of, especially when he was faced with something as perplexing as ‘the toilet’ (where did _it_ all go?).

After a few years of ordained ‘courting,’ Kei married. A few after that, she gave birth to a son, and then a daughter who was around Woohyun’s age now (whom Kei assumed to be 26). The daughter was now married and had a home of her own. Her son moved to a faraway land with a long name and with more automobiles and strange language comprised of harsh sounds, unnatural to Namu’s tongue. And sadly, her beloved husband passed away the year before from a black spot in his lung. Namu had never heard of a spot killing anyone before, but there were several weird and wondrous things in Reality that he’d never heard of before. It wasn’t the strangest either. Namu still didn’t know the purpose of a _doyly_ , and it unnerved him to no end.

Another oddity of Reality was the fact that a person had three syllables to their name. Namu only had two, and so Kei gave him a third. “My children and my husband’s surname is ‘Nam,’ isn’t that funny?” she announced with a giggle, but Woohyun failed to see the joke. He laughed nevertheless, never wanting to be the fool. “And so I thought you could be ‘Nam Woohyun.’” The laughter stuck in his throat. His third syllable: _hyun_. He repeated it over and over again under his breath. _Hyun, Hyun, Nam Woohyun_. He liked it. Saying it was as easy as exhaling. Kei noticed the shy smile forming on his face and grinned herself. “It’s only fitting that I give you a name in this world because you gave me one in Neverland,” she spoke.

“Ms. Kei,” he had added that syllable to her name after she insisted that it was ‘polite.’ “What’s a surname?”

“It’s the first part of a name,” she answered as she poured now Woohyun another cup of tea. “It shows that one belongs to the same family.” _Family_ , Woohyun was familiar with that concept. It was the band that people formed, lived with, fought with, loved. And he supposed that his own band had a surname as well: Lost. ‘Nam” didn’t quite have the same flair, but he supposed it suited Kei…and the new him.

Woohyun sat there, staring at the tea swirling in its cup. He pondered the implications of his new name. Did it mean that he now had a new band? He glanced up at the older woman across from him. She had a daughter his own age. But even when she was young, when she was in Neverland with him, he had used her as a…

“Ms. Kei?” Woohyun scrunched his face, his eyes fixed on the tea still. He couldn’t risk looking at that moon as he asked, “Will you be my mother?”

“Kay,” she answered quickly and happily as she always had.

Woohyun tried his best to fight back the smile forming on his face, but he embraced the warmness spreading across his limbs, enveloping him whole.

“Kay.”

* * *

Although Ms. Kei was his mother, there were long stretches during the day when she disappeared from the home and from his side. She claimed it was for her ‘job.’ Woohyun recalled that ‘jobs’ were something adults had, and so he was instinctually revolted by it. ‘Jobs’ were those evil things that tore parents from homes and forced children to stop playing and become adults. But Woohyun supposed that he was already an adult. Did the mean that he now needed one of those dreaded things?

When he asked Ms. Kei if she did, she suggested that Woohyun follow her for the day. “I have a feeling that you’d like it,” she said with a coy smile. The woman said nothing more and only lead him to her work, and Woohyun followed her like a silent shadow, step for step.

“This is it,” she announced when she was at the door of a large building. It was even larger than his own home, but it didn’t look as inviting. And when he stepped inside, he felt cold. He looked about the entrance. There was not even a single spark of happiness in this place. Indeed a job was a horrid thing.

“Follow me,” Ms. Kei commanded as she brushed past him. The clicking of her heels filled the empty hall. It was soon accompanied by Woohyun’s shuffling and dragging feet. He wasn’t going willing, but as her shadow, he had to follow. “Woohyun-ah,” the woman called to him. Woohyun snapped his head up to see Ms. Kei beckoning at him with her finger. As he approached, she opened a door to room. “Look.” Woohyun shot her a skeptical look before he carefully peered into the room. Then he pulled his head right back out, staring at the woman in disbelief. She smiled. “They’re Lost Boys.” Woohyun’s head whipped around to look inside the room again. There were around 15 boys, running about the room, creating all sorts of havoc and noise, spreading all sorts of joy in their wake. A half-smile crept onto Woohyun’s face. “I come to play with them three times a week,” Ms. Kei continued. “They need a mother, but more than that, they need a leader.”

The smile fully formed on his face. “They need me.”

“Eung, they need Namu.”

And that’s how he found his Lost Boys again, and at the same time, he also got a job, but that wasn’t as important. He played around with the boys and disciplined them too. Before he disciplined his band to fight against pirates, but now he was raising them to be men and not fighters. It was strange, but everything in Reality was new and strange. It was just the way the world was.

Also in this world, he was the one who told stories. Once a day, the boys would gather around him in a circle like him and his former boy used to around Wendy, and he told them of his adventures in Neverland, of the old Lost Boys, of Wendy, and of the nefarious Captain Hook. It was of the few times of the day when the boys would be completely silent and attentive. It as if Woohyun’s words were enchanting them and robbing the voices from their mouths and pulling in their attention. He was a siren.

Even Ms. Kei noticed the magical power Woohyun had recently developed. “You should write them down,” she urged him one night. “The boys really seem to enjoy them, and I’m sure all children would.” And then she sat him down at her desk with this noisy machine called a typewriter (it terrified Woohyun slightly whenever it dinged). “Write.”

“How?” he called out to her as the woman left the room.

“With your hands,” she retorted and retreated into her own bedroom.

Woohyun closed his eyes, threw back his head, and groaned. He yearned for the days when he used to ‘suggest’ things to Ms. Kei just as forcefully. He was grateful to have her as a mother, but perhaps he didn’t know exactly what a mother was. Against his expectations, she never tucked him into the bed at night (but she would occasionally sneak in to kiss his cheek whenever he was about to drift off into Dreamland). But he never expected a mother to be so gently demanding. And Woohyun thought that he’d never feel obligated to follow her. But here he was, hands already placed on the keys and ready to write his story.

“But how?” Woohyun muttered. He scoffed and looked at his fingers on the keys. _With my hands_. And then those hands suddenly flew into action, pecking at the typewriter and the words splattered onto the page. And one page turned into several pages. The sun set and the stars rose into the sky. The pages piled up into heaps on the desk. Crumpled papers littered around his feet on the floor. The sounds from the typewriter formed a dissonant sonata for the night. And Woohyun was creating his masterpiece.

_All children, except for one, grow up. They soon know that they will grow up, and the way Wendy knew was this. One day when she was two years old, she was playing in a garden, and she plucked another flower and ran with it to her mother. I suppose she must have looked rather delightful, for Mrs. Darling put her hand to her heart and cried, “Oh, why can’t you remain like this forever!” This was all the passed between them on the subject, but henceforth Wendy knew that she must grow up. You always know after you are two. Two is the beginning of the end._

* * *

Ms. Kei was easily able to get the book published through her late husband’s connections. One of his friends was a publisher who was just in want of a children’s book, which Ms. Kei was more than happy to provide. Once in print, the book was a rousing success, and Woohyun was whisked away from his own Lost Boys to read his novel to entire swarms of children. And they, like his boys, were hanging onto his every word. He especially got a rousing response for his mimicry skills. Even after the story was over, they’d ask for Smee to come out to play or Wendy, or if they were more daring, they’d ask to duel to the death against Hook. Woohyun would pretend to be those characters from his story and play along with the children until it was his time to leave.

However, when he’d return home after a reading, a heavy sigh would escape his lips, and he’d fall listlessly onto his bed. He was losing a part of himself everyday. With every reading, his life as Namu seemed to be nothing more than fantastical fiction. Was it all a figment of Woohyun’s imagination? Was it all just pretend and child’s play? Was there ever a Neverland?

Woohyun flipped over onto his side and gazed at the copy of his book laying next to him. With a quick flick of his wrist, he opened the book, and it flew open to the exact page he had wanted. It wasn’t out of luck. It had become a habit, for him and for the book. The binding was weakening at this spot. The pages were dog-eared and covered in smudges from the oil in Woohyun’s fingers. But the man couldn’t help but want to see the illustration one more time.

When it came to the illustrations in the book, Woohyun had been very specific. He wanted everything to be as real and as true as possible, even down to the chipped claws of the crocodile and the turkey feathers in Tigerlilly’s hair. But this particular illustration he had sent to get redone several times. Woohyun didn’t understand why it was so hard to create ‘a vicious, man-slaying pirate with an evil sneer on his lips but kindness in his heart.’ And it was the look in the eyes that he’d never liked in the previous renditions, but this one was perfect. It had looked just like him, his Captain Hook.

There was no Captain without Namu...but was there a Namu without the Captain. Were they the two sides of the same coin? And Fate just flipped that coin to see who’d come out on top at each turn? Was Neverland not just his island, but theirs?

No, because here Namu was without Hook, and he was faring just fine. And the island, Neverland, was dying and had died because of Namu, because he grew up and abandoned his boyhood fantasies.

But in place of those, he adopted new fantasies. Beautiful ones. The realest ones he’s ever conjured, deep and wide like the sea. He wanted to make children every happy and to believe in magic once again. It’s only for a short while that some people allow themselves to believe in frivolous things like that, but how fun frivolous things can be! Woohyun wanted to give them that opportunity again. He gave them a chance to believe in pixie dust, mermaids, fairies, and a land where you’d never grow up. He wanted to make magic, magical again.

And while living with Ms. Kei, he also fantasized about one day moving out and living in his own home, which would not be decorated with floral wallpaper and doylies, but with trophies from his latest hunts and pictures of his grand adventures (for he was not done having his adventures yet).

He also fantasized of finding a new band, creating his own family. He already had a mother in Ms. Kei, but he wanted to expand his band beyond her. Woohyun wanted to have a son and maybe even a daughter. He yearned to teach them all of the wonderful things about Reality that he had recently learned and watch their eyes grow and sparkle in astonishment. Woohyun, of course, would also tell them the glory of Neverland every night, but more and more he realized that his stories could be nothing more than fairy tales, or else their sanity, much like his know, would be tenuous. It was often hard for Woohyun to gather the loose strands of his mind to make a coherent, rational thought.

Then there were times when Woohyun thought that Neverland was just that, just a dream, or his childhood reimagined. Perhaps he assimilated to easily into this Reality because he had caught himself once or twice doubting the existence of mermaids and fairies. But then for the next five minutes he’d spend clapping and chanting, “I do believe in fairies. I do! I do!” But during those times of doubt, all he had to do was to look at Ms. Kei and her graying hair and aging face. He had known her in the blossom of her youth. She was the proof for him that Neverland did happen, just like he was the proof of it to her.

But…Woohyun’s fingers lingered on the illustration of Hook. He then rapped his fingers against the page. His patience was waning with each passing day. He needed one last proof to be certain. He needed to find the only thing that remained left of Neverland. He needed Hook.

Or Woohyun was afraid that what little left he was clinging onto of Namu would fly away like pixie dust in the wind.

* * *

One of his fantasies soon came to life when Woohyun was able to gather enough money to afford live on his own. Ms. Kei helped him to find a modest apartment, not too far from Home. She also helped him to furnish the place; this time, it was all to Woohyun’s simple tastes. He kept the wooden walls completely bare because it reminded him of his treehouse. But he insisted on bringing the large globe from Home with him. There were so many nooks and crannies of Reality that he wanted to explore, even if it just with his fingertips, tracing the raised ridges of the lands on the globes.

Also around this time, Woohyun had acquired an agent. The publishing house hired him one after his book was praised by critics. He was now in the process of writing a stageplay of the book. And his other dream of making magic real again was slowly coming to life, through the use of special effects and staging. Although it didn’t help with his crisis of figuring out what was ‘pretend’ or what was ‘real,’ when he was casting actors to ‘play’ the role of him and his childhood friends.

An ‘identity crisis,’ Woohyun had read that term in a book he’d taken from Ms. Kei’s library (it was called _The Interpretation of Dreams_ ; it was filled with strange concepts and terms that he did quite understand, but this he did). He finally found a name to attach to this tumult inside of him. It wasn’t quite a depression. He easily grew happy. His energy was high, as well as his self-esteem, which wasn’t hard to do when people all around him were praising him. But in the back of his mind, there was always this resounding question of ‘why?’ Why was he happy? Was it part of his general disposition or did everything please him? Why was he this way? Who was he? And these questions would rob the smile from his face.

And so Ms. Kei suggested that he should move out and ‘finish growing.’ That only further confused Woohyun. He was in his late twenties now. Wasn’t he already grown up? Wasn’t he already an adult?

Ms. Kei wasn’t the only one who thought this way. One day his agent called him and demanded that Woohyun set up something strange called a _bank account_ “like a real grown up.” The agent insisted that the money would grow there and be safer, a lot safer than hiding in the box underneath Woohyun’s bed (Woohyun never told his agent that he hid his money there. He had no idea how the other could have known). Woohyun was all for the notion of accumulating more money, even if it was just a few cents every year, but he didn’t like the idea of entrusting his hard earned money to someone else. To him that didn’t sound safe. To him that sounded quite like something else entirely.

Yet he had no choice in the matter. His agent picked Woohyun up from his apartment and forced him into the bank for an appointment. Once Woohyun had stepped inside the bank, an eerie yet familiar feeling washed over him. Was it the dark wooden desks and walls? The sounds of coins jostled around in hands? Or was it the smell of greed that permeated from every corner of the building.

The feeling only grew once he was lead to a small, private room at the back of the bank and was seated inside. He felt as if he were locked in the brig after he heard the door lock shut behind him. He was locked in solitary confinement and was about to have all his gold taken away. Woohyun was going to fire his agent for this.

But that’s when he heard it.

The door clicked open again. The sharp sound of heels clashing against the tile filled the room. One step, two step, until Woohyun saw the man form in his periphery. First he saw the black, boxed toed shoes, shining so brightly that Woohyun could see his own reflection. Then his eyes lifted, following the creased pleat of his woolen pants. He could see the golden keys hanging from his belt loop and the brassy chain of his pocket watch, tucked into his grey vest pocket. A hand, paler than natural was hanging limply at his side, while the other clung tightly onto a file, which he was reading intently. The wire frames of his glasses was slipping down the straight bridge of his nose. His black hair was slicked back, revealing a wide smooth forehead that Woohyun rarely ever saw.

But this person, he was used to seeing and he wanted to see again. And so Woohyun silently watched the other, slowly soaking in his presence with a sly smile on his face. He hadn’t felt like this in awhile: his heart beating wildly in his chest, alertness rushing through his veins, all of his hair standing on its end, and all of the other symptoms of facing a life-long rival. But Woohyun just remained quite, relishing in this feeling. The other hadn’t noticed yet who exactly he was about to face. But he soon did, after he placed the file on the table and raised his gaze to meet Woohyun’s.

“Namu…” he muttered under his breath in disbelief.

Woohyun smirked and leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. “Lookie, lookie. I found Hookie,” he teasingly sang.

The former pirate scoffed and sat down in his seat. “All of these years, I’ve been trying to steal what’s yours and now you’re just handing it over to me? Where’s the fun in that?” he combated with a wide grin on his face.

“Don’t you know? Adults can’t have fun,” Woohyun quickly retorted. He then leaned over the table and raised his eyebrow as he proposed, “But we can fight for old time’s sake.”

“Aye, we can,” Hook responded with a short nod. His eyes then fell back to the file on the table, and he began to flip through and sort the papers.

Woohyun frowned as he watched his rival just let their ‘argument’ die down. Had the elder really let him win that easily? “Golly, Captain. Your banter has really gone bad,” Woohyun sneered. “What next? Are you going to compliment me? Ask me how my day was?”

“Sorry, it’s just…” Woohyun’s excitement dampened. An apology was even worse than letting Woohyun win. “I’m shocked. It’s been so long. I’ve gotten rusty. Forgive me. I am but an old man,” the Captain finished with a soft smile.

A lightening quick smile flashed across Woohyun’s face. “Indeed,” he grumbled.

“So how was your day?”

“You’re joking.”

“You’re right,” Hook took back his question and returned his attention to the papers in front of him. “Let’s get down to business.”

“Wah,” Woohyun exclaimed in disbelief, shaking his head. “Have things really changed that much?”

Slam! Woohyun popped up in is seat as Hook slammed his pen against the table. And while he was scared and startled, Woohyun was grateful to finally see a glimpse of the pirate that he once knew. “This isn’t Neverland,” the Captain growled. “This is Reality. I’m not sure how…” He broke out into an exasperated sigh, running his good hand through his hair, messing up the neat style. Strands of hair escaped and fell onto his forehead. Hook then took in an other deep breath and straightened himself up, also straightening the crooked badge attached to his vest. It finally caught Woohyun’s eye, seeing it glint. _Kim Sunggyu_ , it read. And that was it. There was no title. There was no hook attached to his other arm, just a painted wooden hand. This wasn’t the person he knew. Woohyun met the other’s gaze and sighed as well. Sunggyu continued, “You’re my client now. I’m supposed to win you over and get you to join our bank. Do you even _know_ how many banks I’m competing against? My career…”

“So you _have_ to be nice to me?” Woohyun cut him off. He couldn’t fight back this anger growing inside of him. Moments ago, he thought that he’d finally found what he’d lost years ago, but it now seemed like that person was lost forever. “It’s all just lip service?”

Sunggyu leaned back in surprise, blinking as he slowly picked up his fallen thoughts. “Yes, but that’s not it…This isn’t Neverland. I’m not a pirate. Hell, _you_ grew up!” he exclaimed and brandished his pen at Woohyun, pointing it in between his eyes. After he realized how _threatening_ and improper he was being, Sunggyu lowered the pen and spoke in a gentle, dead voice, “You’re not Namu anymore, Nam Woo _hyun_ -ssi.”

“I am,” Woohyun insisted. He refused to let go of this part of him, with childish stubbornness. He was going to hold onto Namu, onto his roots, as tightly as he could and wouldn’t be shaken, no matter how strong the gales blew.

Sunggyu shook his head. “No, no you aren’t.” But a faint smile clung onto his lips and his eyes softened. “Now are you going to give me your gold or am I going to have to take it from you by force. I may have lost my hook, but I can still slice you with this,” Sunggyu playfully threatened, raised the pen again, limply now.

Woohyun looked from the pen up to the other and back down to the pen again. He was suddenly reminded of that night back in Neverland, when Hook had cast his sword aside because Namu hadn’t been in the mood to play. It was when Namu had no one else besides the pirate and his shadow, all before he grew up. But they were both adults now, doing grown up things like setting up a _bank account_. Woohyun felt the corners of his mouth droop low on his face. Even the feeling in the air was similar to that night. Woohyun reached for the pen. “No, you’re right. Where do I have to sign, you filthy pirate?”

Woohyun signed where he was told and barely listened to Sunggyu ramble on about savings, checkings, and interest, which in spite of the name, Woohyun wasn’t even _interest_ ed in. In his mind, he was balancing conflicting feelings, between running away from this situation and not wanting to lose contact with the old man for a second time. And while the scales in his mind where wavering back and forth, Sunggyu gathered up the papers and told Woohyun that he’d see him outside.

The appointment was over. Panic suddenly spread through Woohyun, and one end of the scale crashed onto the floor. Before he knew it, they were at the bank’s doors, and Sunggyu offered out his hand. Woohyun knew what was coming. He loathed it. _Never say goodbye because goodbye means going away and going away means forgetting_.

Woohyun clenched his fists, shoved deep in his pockets, “So…do we have to pretend that Neverland never happened? Are we strangers now?” he asked the other with wide, searching eyes.

Sunggyu dropped his hand and put it into his own pocket. “Things have changed,” he responded dryly.

“But, Cap–Sunggyu-ssi,” Woohyun was quick to correct himself. “You’re the only person that _knows_ me. The real me.”

“What about Ms. Kei?” the other challenged (Woohyun had told him earlier, while filling out the paperwork, that Ms. Kei was his legal guardian).

Woohyun shook his head fervently. “She can only remember my face and some images, like a childhood dream. Fuzzy memories aren’t _knowing_ ,” he fought back. Ms. Kei’s memories were barely even recollections; several details were still scattered about, forgotten.

The permanent faint smile on the elder’s face grew into a true one. “Then, I’m the only one,” he spoke quietly, as if he didn’t want to admit it.

But Woohyun wasn’t afraid to admit anything. In fact he confessed in the other’s place, “Me too. Sunggyu-ssi, I’m the only one who knows you.”

“Right,” Sunggyu reluctantly agreed, his eyes on the floor as he nodded. He then scoffed and threw his head back, groaning, “Seems like I’ll never be able to get rid of this annoying little brat, pestering me to play every second of the day. God, what have I done to deserve this?”

Woohyun laughed at the other’s mock misery. He nudged the other on the shoulder. “Eh, you like it,” he spoke. And then he leaned in and spoke lowly, “After all, you’re my mortal enemy. I can’t let you go until you’re dead.”

Suggyu scoffed and pushed the other away, “Not unless I kill you first.”

“Ah, to die will be an awfully big adventure!” Woohyun exclaimed with a great grin on his face.

“Aish, acclaimed writer but you keep spitting out the same lines,” the other retorted and clicked his tongue in admonishment.

“Catchphrase! It’s a catchphrase. You’re supposed to repeat it,” Woohyun argued with a laugh. He then waved at the other and left him with this parting, “I’ll get you next time, Hook.”

“You know where to find me.”

* * *

Yes, Woohyun new exactly where to find him. He went the next day and discovered the man sitting at a desk, shocked at the younger’s sudden arrival.

“What are you doing?”

Woohyun sat on a free space on the desk and grabbed at a paper weight, mildly amused that it was in the shape of a skull (perhaps the other was still holding onto his roots too and his words were in misstep with his actions). He threw it up in the air and caught it in his palm, laughing at the gasp that escaped the other’s lips. “As it would turn out, people in Reality do lunch as well,” Woohyun stated as he placed the skull back down with a thud.

“Do you want me to eat with you?” Sunggyu asked with a raised brow. Woohyun nodded. The elder clicked his tongue and moved the paper weight away from the other’s reach. “Why didn’t you just ask like a normal person?”

“Then is that a yes?” Woohyun answered his question with one of his own. Sunggyu gave a short nod. The writer slyly looked at the other out of the corner of his narrowed eyes. “Why didn’t you just answer like a normal person?”

“I am normal,” Sunggyu immediately retorted.

“I am normal,” Woohyun mimicked him perfectly.

Sunggyu pulled back and stared at the man on his desk in disbelief. “Are you serious?”

“Are _you_ serious?” Woohyun repeated with a mischievous grin tearing at his face.

“Aren’t you a little old…”

“Aren’t you a little old…”

Sunggyu paused for a second, composing an appropriate response and trying to make the best out of an annoying situation. “Captain Hook is the best and I admire him so much.”

“Captain Hook is the worst and I despise him so much,” Woohyun twisted the other’s words and smiled proudly as if he’d solved all the ills of the world (he might’ve provided a bandage for _his_ world at the moment. His mood was improving).

And while Woohyun was beaming like the morning sun, Sunggyu stared at the other, tapping his pen impatiently on the desk. After a few seconds without a word passed between either, Sunggyu finally gave in, “Are you done now?”

“Yes,” Woohyun chirped as he slid off of the desk. “So…lunch?”

“Fine,” Sunggyu agreed, sitting up from his chair and reaching for his coat. He then grinned at the other. “As long as you buy it, Mr. Critically Acclaimed Author.”

Woohyun blankly nodded as he watched the elder slip on his coat and brush right past him. Once Sunggyu was out of earshot, Woohyun pouted and grumbled, “Filthy pirate.” Even in this world, Sunggyu was constantly taking his gold from him.

* * *

“Did you know that there’s a place that sells nothing but ice cream?” Woohyun asked as the two walked side-by-side down the street.

Sunggyu stopped in his steps, and Woohyun stopped a few steps ahead and turned around to see what was wrong. “Please don’t tell me we’re going to an ice cream parlor for lunch,” the elder begged.

“No…” Woohyun denied, avoiding the other’s gaze and tugging on his tight collar. “So where should we go instead?”

The banker smirked and began walking again. “I know just the place,” he announced as he walked by the younger and left him behind. Woohyun jogged to keep up and followed along in the other man’s shadow.

* * *

“Aah!” Woohyun let out as he leaned back in his chair, stretching and breathing in the fresh spring air. He felt refreshed and renewed in this environment, relaxed as well. Sunggyu had taken him to a restaurant with an outdoor patio surrounded by a lush garden that was far superior to the flowerbeds Ms. Kei kept. The plants were imported from the far reaches of the world. The flora was brighter, the fauna was bigger, and Woohyun hadn’t been this satisfied with his surroundings ever since he’d escaped the dreaded doylies. He had an urge to pluck one of the tall grasses from nearby and twiddle with it in between his teeth. He wanted to kick his feet onto the table, lean back on the back legs of the chair, and soak in the sun’s rays until he was as tan as once was. He felt _that_ young again. “I keep telling Ms. Kei that food tastes better when eating outside.”

“It does,” Sunggyu agreed. “You look at home.”

Woohyun closed his eyes and breathed in deeply once again. He couldn’t get enough of it. “It feels like home. It even smells like it. Ah!” he sighed contentedly. Upon hearing the other chuckle, Woohyun peeled open one of his eyes and studied the man across from him. Sunggyu looked decidedly happier than he did, trapped in that dank bank. “Doesn’t it remind you of Neverland too?”

“Eung,” Sunggyu grunted, closing his eyes and soaking in the atmosphere as well.

“Don’t you miss it?”

“Hm?” the banker’s eyes snapped wide open. He then titled his head as he admitted. “Sometimes. It was nice playing all day, being a pirate. Exciting.” He paused to glare menacingly at the other. “But then I had to deal with you everyday.”

“You liked it. Like you said, with me it was exciting,” Woohyun reminded him as he leaned forward, resting his head in his hands.

“You tried to kill me,” Sunggyu argued. “You almost killed me. I almost _died_.” He placed a hand over his chest and grimaced as if he had been shot by a pistol.

Woohyun stared at that hand over the heart as he sat back up straight in his seat. “I didn’t know you were going to die,” he quietly revealed and glanced down at this tea.

“What?” the banker challenged with a mocking laugh. “What did you think would happen?”

“I don’t know. It’s hard to explain,” the writer grumbled, twirling the cup on the saucer. “I wanted to kill you, but I didn’t want you to die. I just...” He paused to groan. He was embarrassed, but back then, he was just a mere child who didn’t understand the consequences of his actions. “I didn’t know that it would mean that you’d be gone forever. I just wanted to win.”

“You…you missed me,” Sunggyu slowly concluded.

“No,” Woohyun denied and shook his head so quickly that hair fell out of its meticulous style (and he hoped that the idea would fall out of the banker’s head, but it didn’t).

“You missed your dear old Captain. Wah!” Sunggyu exclaimed, clapping his hands as if he just won a prize. “Did you cry? Did you cry after I died? I bet you did. When Namu cries does sap come out like a real tree?” he teased.

“I didn’t cry! And _you_ didn’t die,” Woohyun combatted. All of his satisfaction and calm earlier melted into a hot puddle of embarrassment. His cheeks were growing hot, and his voice was growing louder. “You came back.”

“Aye, I did,” Sunggyu confirmed with a proud smile. He then took a long sip from his tea while still gloating at the other.

“Would you miss me?”

The elder choked on his drink. “Hm? Pardon?”

 _“Did_ you miss me?” Woohyun rephrased the question. He watched the other’s blank face carefully for any small traces of a reaction. “These past three years, did you miss me at all?”

The banker looked away and at the garden next to them. The writer followed his gaze as well, watching the leaves and petals dance in the light breeze. Woohyun almost half-expected to see the golden halo of a fairy emerge from behind the wide fern leaves. He did, until he remembered where he was. He was losing himself to his memories again.

“Yes.” Woohyun whipped his head back to see Sunggyu gazing straight at him. The elder continued, “…but like you said, after awhile, it all feels like a dream.”

“It wasn’t.”

“I know,” Sunggyu replied with a resigned sigh.

“You missed me,” Woohyun once again spoke the words the other had failed to.

 _“You_ missed _me_ ,” Sunggyu twisted it around.

Woohyun frowned and crossed his arms over his chest. “Aren’t you too old to be mimicking somebody?” he argued.

“I wasn’t,” the elder mumbled. He then quickly diverted the younger’s attention, tapping at the lemon slices for their tea, still laying on the dish untouched. “Hey, eat those. You don’t want scurvy.”

“Why are you so weird?” the writer asked with an embarrassed wince. But nevertheless, he still reached for a lemon slice and ate it. “Ah, sour!”

* * *

Woohyun hadn’t told anyone what was the source of his crisis. It wasn’t the play or the fact that he sold his life’s story as fiction. Those he could manage easily. He felt like it was the greatest prank that he pulled in Reality. A secret that few were privy to. But this, no one else knew. Almost every night, he dreamt of Neverland. It wasn’t quite a nightmare, but it also was almost like one. Everything was so vivid and real in his dreams, but when he’d startle awake in Reality, he struggled to sort out what belonged where, where he belonged versus where he was. And those dreams became a storm cloud, floating over his head for the rest of the day. A cloud that would rain down the cold, hard truth and strike him to the core with longing. He couldn’t shake off that feeling as much as he tried. There was no amount of sunshine and happiness those days that could chase the cloud away.

Until now.

If the former pirate was good for anything, he was good at stealing away Woohyun’s focus and diverting it elsewhere, whether it would be a biting word to lure him into playful banter or a simple touch that would ease the tension in Woohyun’s heart. As a result, Woohyun sought out the other more and more, especially after those dream-filled nights. And perhaps the writer was fulfilling the same needs for the banker, because Sunggyu came to him just as often. And when they were together, they joked, played, talked seriously or not at all. They lived, not in Reality but in their own little world that they were starting to form with each other.

Before, Woohyun was concerned with what Neverland _was_ , who it truly belonged to: Namu or Captain Hook. But none of that matter anymore. Now Kim Sunggyu was his Neverland.

* * *

“Have you fully grown up?” Sunggyu asked. They were finally at the ice cream parlor for lunch after Woohyun had suggested it relentlessly for the thousandth time. The elder had been having a particularly dreadful day, and the air was unbearably humid. So Woohyun finally got his wish granted and was immensely enjoying his sundae with the veracity of a five year-old, which was perhaps the reason why Sunggyu had asked the question (also the whipped cream clinging to the younger’s lips which Sunggyu had been fighting the overwhelming urge to dab away).

Woohyun put down his spoon and (thankfully) wiped his soiled mouth with his napkin. “I'm still working on it,” he confessed. He then listed, counting off his fingers, “I have a family and an old mother. I have a job and an agent. I have money. I live on my own. I even have a bank account.” He paused and with an embarrassed chuckle he put out another finger and added, “I've gotten a kiss. Two actually.” He put out another finger, one for each kiss.

“A kiss from a Wendy hardly counts,” Sunggyu immediately dismissed.

Woohyun pouted. “Why is that?”

“What did you need a Wendy for?” the elder challenged.

Woohyun closed his eyes and thought hard to recollect his thinking at the time. “To tell me stories and sing me lullabies. Tell me that everything will be alright,” he concluded.

“To be your mother?” Sunggyu reached his own conclusion. Woohyun turned his attention back to his sundae, avoiding answering that question. “That's not the type of kiss you need to grow up,” the banker continued.

“What is?” the writer asked with his mouth full.

“Love. First love,” the other answered with an embarrassed chuckle. It was so unlike a pirate to speak of something so gentle and tender (but then again he always harbored a soft heart). “And not one of those silly schoolboy crushes.”

“I don't think I've ever had one of those,” Woohyun muttered sadly. He felt like his life had taken a step back. All of this time, he thought that he was a full-fledged, but now he realized that he was missing a crucial step. He had been suspecting it, even before Sunggyu had brought it up. Love. From Ms. Kei, he’d learned about its power. She’d often fondly speak of her late husband as if he were still alive. It wasn’t long before Woohyun noticed that the husband was still alive in her heart. Love wasn’t something Woohyun fully understood yet, but he at least thought that he had more experience with it than he actually did.

“Hey,” Woohyun called Sunggyu’s attention away from his own ice cream. “Do you think that Tinkerbell crossed over? She could give me one. She liked me back in Neverland. And she was a sexy little minx.”

Sunggyu snorted before he fell into chuckling. “Yea, you haven't finished growing up yet.”

* * *

Woohyun may still have some growing up to do and some more things to get used to in Reality (Ms. Kei recently took up the hobby of pressing flowers and Woohyun couldn’t understand why someone would torture an innocent plant like that), but for Sunggyu, things were different. He was different in Reality. He was so mild mannered. He was honest as well. It was strange and it put Woohyun more on edge than when they were rivals. And when Woohyun confronted the former pirate about his current good streak, Sunggyu replied, “You were right. As an adult, I need to take responsibility for my actions. And if that’s the case, I want them to be good.”

Woohyun could respect that, especially since Sunggyu had ties to the church. Two fathers found Sunggyu after Woohyun had dropped him mid-flight. They took him into the rectory, thinking that he was a homeless drunk who wore a costume in lieu of real clothing. And Sunggyu played along, which wasn’t hard as he had developed a taste for rum after years of being a pirate. The fathers helped to put Sunggyu back onto his feet and got him a job at the bank. Now while Sunggyu didn’t live at the rectory anymore, he still went to church every Sunday and ate dinner with the priests.

However, even that couldn’t account for everything. Sunggyu had assimilated too easily into this world. Unlike Woohyun who was often conflicted between which world was real, when in fact both were real but one denied the existence of the other, all leaving him terribly confused. Sunggyu reacted to the entire situation like Ms. Kei did. To them, Neverland was a fond, dream-like memory, a treasure buried deep within their hearts.

They were at their favorite restaurant when Woohyun breached the subject, “I’ve always meant to ask you, how did you assimilate so easily into society?”

“‘Assimilate into society’?” the banker repeated in a shocked but teasing tone. “My, look at you using big, fancy words.”

Woohyun cocked his head as he narrowed his gaze on the other. “Captain,” was what he always called the other when he was being cross, about to spit our fighting words. “I fought against you long enough to know when you’re trying to distract me from my prize. Try to lure me in with biting words so we’d end up arguing and I’d forget my goal. I know you well enough.”

“If you _know_ me, then you should already know the answer,” Sunggyu pointed out with a cheeky smile, but the look on Woohyun’s face didn’t change, nor did his determination. “Alright, I concede,” Sunggyu yielded, letting out a sigh along with his resolve. “Unlike you, I did not grow up in Neverland. I grew up here, in Reality.”

Woohyun scooted in closer and lowered his voice. “What happened?” he asked. “The Lost Boys had all fallen from their prams as babes and were whisked away. What did you fall from? A wheelchair?” he ended with a joke because the other began to look uneasy.

A smile cracked along Sunggyu’s face. “Funny, but no. I had _fallen_ into a situation that I wanted to get out of,” he confessed. He glanced up at the other and then over to the garden, which became a habit whenever he was recollecting the past. “I was engaged.”

“What?” Woohyun could barely believe what he had heard. Although he was still unfamiliar with Love, he knew that engagements and marriage were tied in with it. Ms. Kei loved her husband, her daughter loved hers, and so on and so forth for generations before and after. Was someone in Love with Sunggyu? Did _he_ Love her back?

Sunggyu chuckled as he turned to look at his friend again. His fingers were rapping nervously against the table, although his expression appeared to be calm and unnerved. “There are some things that you still don’t know about Reality, Namu. And about me. I really am a dirty scoundrel.”

It was an arranged marriage, like most were back then. Sunggyu wouldn’t say that she was a complete stranger, but a stranger nonetheless. They probably talked with each other for no more than fifteen minutes before their parents had decided it would be a fruitful match. Their fathers were business partners. Their mothers got along. She was pretty, and he was handsome enough. And there was nothing that was supposed to be disagreeable about it. But it disagreed with Sunggyu all the same. Just the thought of his upcoming betrothal made his stomach churn and a sense of dread wash over him. He had hoped that he’d become one of those respectable eternal bachelors and spend his life in peace and quiet, and alone. But now, he was forced to share his future with someone and his peace and quiet would be filled with a lifetime of small talk…and then eventually the screams of tiny children when the time came.

It wasn’t that Sunggyu was a misanthrope. In fact, it was quite the opposite. He enjoyed the company of men too much, beyond societal norms. However, he was also not naturally inclined to be the rebellious type, in spite of the decades that he had spent as a pirate. And so he would marry like his parents wanted him to do, like her parents wanted him to do, like he was supposed to do. He wasn’t going to be happy about it. And he doubted if he’d ever be truly happy ever again.

For Sunggyu, being adult and happiness did not go hand in hand. Being an adult meant responsibilities weighing him down like a leaden chain. He’d never have his happy heart fly amoung the clouds again, unlike when he was a youth.

In fact, he had been looking at the clouds that day at the park, wondering what it was like to be that high and free. His fiancée was sitting on the bench next to him. They were to get married the next week and were spending the rest of this one getting to know each other. It had been going well. She didn’t mind sitting with him in silence, but while his eyes were on the clouds, hers were on the children, playing and causing all sorts of commotion. She tapped Sunggyu on the shoulder, arresting his attention. “Look,” she whispered, gesturing to a young boy and his even younger sister. “I’d like to have two just like that: a boy and a girl. How about you?”

There it was again, the dread. All of the sudden the world seemed to crushing in on him. He didn’t want to _have_ a boy. He wanted with all of his might to _be_ a boy again. He wanted to be free of all of these new responsibilities, loading on top of the ones that he already had, crushing him until it was hard to breathe. And to Hell with those old responsibilities too! To Hell with his job! To Hell with filial piety! To Hell with society! He’d rather become a dog like Diogenes than be a gentleman.

But he couldn’t say that. Sunggyu just let out a strangled noise that his fiancée interpreted as assent, and she went on to discuss family names. While she was telling him the ‘outdated but beautiful’ name of her great-grandmother, some flash of light caught Sunggyu’s eye. It was too early in the day for fireflies, but there one was. And another! And was that another one over there? One of the fireflies was drawing nearer to Sunggyu, zig-zagging in the air. Sunggyu glanced over at his fiancée to see if she was witnessing this strange sight too, but she was frozen solid. Her lips were still in the midst of forming the name, and all of the children in front of them were frozen midplay. The whole world had stopped, except for Sunggyu and the firefly darting straight towards him, right in between his eyes.

Then it suddenly stopped, centimeters away from his face. And once Sunggyu had sorted out his crossed eyes, he realized that it wasn’t a firefly at all. Through the golden haze of the halo, he could see a little girl with translucent wings fluttering on her back.

“A fairy,” he muttered in disbelief. “But they don’t…”

The fairy held his lips shut tightly with her small hands, locking the deadly words in. She then put a finger to her own lips as she let go of his. Sunggyu nodded, promising to be silent. The fairy then giggled like tinkling bells and spun in the air. She was exclaiming something excitedly, but all that Sunggyu could register was a high-pitched buzzing in his ears. She then inspected every centimeter of him, even pulling back his lips to see his gums, glancing up at his nostril, and peeling open his eyelids. What she seen must have pleased her because she began circling about his head until she softly landed on his shoulders. Sunggyu had been still, voluntarily frozen, afraid to scare or anger the magical being. But when the fairy walked across his shoulder and whispered at a lower register into his ear, “Do you want to play?” Sunggyu finally moved: he nodded.

Suddenly he was surrounded by a swarm of twinkling lights. Hundreds of fairies flew about him like a whirlwind and carried him up into the air. Moments later, he found himself aboard a pirate ship with a sword being thrust into his hand and a hat being placed on his head by his new fairy friends. That day, he became Captain Kim Sunggyu. And years later, when his hand was lopped off and fed to the crocodile, he became Captain Hook.

And the rest was now preserved in Woohyun’s book.

Sunggyu hadn’t told the writer his whole story, just the bit about his overwhelming sense of fear and the fairies freeing him. “You were right, or Ms. Kei was,” he admitted at the end of his story. “I was fleeing from responsibility for my whole life. But then…I ended up with a whole band of Lost Boys under my watch. I tried to flee responsibility, but it still found me.”

Woohyun frowned, stewing in his spot. Sunggyu was speaking in a joking voice, but the elder had just told him how much responsibilities had scared him. Then under the guise of play, Sunggyu was forced to take care of him. He was Sunggyu’s greatest fear. “I never asked you to take care of me. I did fine on my own,” Woohyun grumbled.

“Aye, you did,” the other readily agreed, probably to calm Woohyun’s brewing storm. The writer looked up at him curiously. “Taking care of you was always easy. I just had to make sure that you were fed and played with.”

Woohyun scoffed. “You make it sound like I’m some dog,” he growled.

“No, not a dog,” Sunggyu spoke teasingly. “You’re my Namu Neulbo.”

That nickname heralded forth a flood of memories, of young Namu in his precious tree filled with friends and of the pirate captain who’d circle below, waving his hook in the air. Woohyun shook his head. Sunggyu was trying to distract him again. The writer still had some answered questions. He focused on the pale wooden hand, resting on the table, and used it as his anchor to Reality. “Whatever happened to the woman?” he asked.

The other let out a slight groan, saddened that his ploy hadn’t worked. The banker yielded and answered, “She probably married someone else and had several children. My departure was better for the both of us. She probably lived a happier life.”

“What about you? Are you happier?” Woohyun asked, raising his gaze from the hand to the other’s eyes.

“Infinitely,” Sunggyu replied without missing a beat.

“Why?”

Sunggyu smiled faintly and shook his head. “You don’t want me to answer that.”

“Why not?”

“There are some things about this world and adulthood that you don’t understand yet,” and Sunggyu left it at that. He stood up from his seat and walked over to inspect the garden more closely, suddenly interested in the brightly colored pitcher plant. Woohyun watched the man carefully as he looked into the plant’s mouth and grimaced. The heart squeezed in the writer’s chest. But it wasn’t like a painful vice-grip. It was more like a warm handshake, a tight hug. The squeeze caused warmth the pour forth, filling his entire being.

“But I think I do,” Woohyun muttered his comeback to the other, to low for the elder to hear. “I think I understand completely.”

He had always known what the pirate wanted to confess.

* * *

The next time they met, it was at Sunggyu’s place for drinks, knocking one more item off of Woohyun’s ‘growing up’ list. Although the writer neglected to tell him that he’d already been to several events and receptions, all flowing with champagne and red wine. But he held his tongue because it was the first time that Woohyun had been invited over.

Once inside the banker’s modest apartment, Sunggyu confessed that he was embarrassed as the hyung to be making less money and be living more humbly. He also had to explain to Woohyun again that as a banker, he _saved_ Woohyun’s money and could not _spend_ it. However, that did not stop the elder from strong-arming the younger into paying for meals. As far as Woohyun was concerned, Sunggyu was still stealing his money…or maybe now Woohyun was giving it away willing.

In any case, Woohyun found nothing shameful about his friend’s apartment. It oddly looked very much like his captain’s quarters on the ship. The writer smirked. For all the talk, it seemed like Hook had a hard time letting go of Neverland as well.

Sunggyu led him to a leather couch and poured the two of them a great portion of rum in their tumblers. He hand the tumbler filled with rum and ice to Woohyun and then sat down next to him. The two drank in silence, or until Woohyun coughed a few seconds later from the unexpected burn. Sunggyu chuckled and urged the other to drink more slowly. And then afterwards the conversation flowed easily, discussing everything from their workweek to Ms. Kei’s most recent fascination with knitting.

It must have been something suddenly displeasing about the old woman to Sunggyu, for a deep frown was etched on his face. His brows bowed, creasing his formerly smooth forehead.

“What?” Woohyun suddenly asked after telling the other about the 6 foot-long scarf Ms. Kei knit for him.

Sunggyu tipped the glass in his hand, watching the ice clink against the surface. “Have you gotten your kiss yet?” he asked, eyes still on the glass.

“No,” Woohyun answered with a knowing grin on his lips. “I can't find a First Love as easily as I can find a Wendy. But...” he paused for a moment, biting on his lip in thought before continuing, “…I was wondering.”

“Yes.” Sunggyu’s gaze finally matched his.

“Would a kiss from a pirate count?”

“I think…it just might,” Sunggyu stumbled through an answer.

Excited by that answer, Woohyun might’ve moved too quick, suddenly leaning closer to the other until his breath fell upon the elder’s parted lips. Sunggyu recoiled a bit. He was nervous. Woohyun smirked. He must have grown up much to make the other nervous like this (now only a few years separated them). Sunggyu was now more shaken than when they were play fighting and Namu had held a knife to his throat. Back then, Hook had been more prepared to die at Namu’s hands than Kim Sunggyu was ready to kiss Nam Woohyun. But the banker’s cheeks weren’t the only ones painted heavily with blush. He wasn’t the only one with a heart hammering almost audibly in his chest. Woohyun was scared too. First Love must be scary. Rejection too. Even though both were pretty confident of the other’s feelings, there was still the smallest of chances of rejection. And that was enough to keep them stopped with their faces close, with lips nearly touching.

In the end, the pirate took the risk and closed the gap, giving Woohyun the kiss he needed.

And Sunggyu had been right: it wasn’t like kissing a Wendy at all. When he kissed them, just a brief peck would do. It would be enough to satisfy his appetite for affection. But now, even after their shaky and haphazard meeting of lips, more of a brushing then actual kiss, Woohyun wasn’t satiated. Was it the taste of the other’s rum-soaked mouth? Or just the wet, soft, slightly sticky feeling? There was a possibility that it was just because he was Sunggyu, a person that Woohyun wanted to become close to, and that he’d never be close enough to be fully satisfied. Whatever the reason, one kiss wasn’t enough, nor was two, nor was the hand gripping at the nape of Woohyun’s neck, dragging him in, nor was just the lips satisfactory. He had to taste the soft skin over the cheek, the tautness over the neck, the slick teeth and warm tongue. They both did. Sunggyu was just as hungry.

However, they had to part, still left wanting more, but the need for air was precedent. They weren’t going to regain it quickly, how they were still facing each other and breathing heavily, taking in the air that the other just exhaled, but neither wanted to move. Sunggyu’s fingers were still threading through the small hairs at the base of Woohyun’s neck. And Woohyun was still holding him by the fabric of his vest, his knuckles now white.

“I told you…there was a reason…I kept fighting you,” Woohyun spoke whenever he found air.

Sunggyu opened his eyes and searched the other’s. “What?”

“You were the last thing I needed…to grow up.”

Sunggyu chuckled and asked, “How does it feel now…to be an adult?”

Woohyun dove back in, kissing Sunggyu once again. His heart was racing. It was beating faster than when he raced against the Lost Boys home, faster than when he chased the fairies in the glen, faster than when he challenged the mermaids to holding their breaths under water. And the satisfaction, the happiness he gained from this simple action, outweighed all his childhood joys by much.

“Amazing,” Woohyun answered. First Love wasn’t scary at all. It was the best.

* * *

“Namu?” a voice sang out, filling Woohyun’s apartment, which was now cluttered with model ships and coins from around the world. The walls now were no longer bare. Pictures of Woohyun’s grand adventures hung from them, but he wasn’t alone in them. No, he hadn’t been alone in a very, very long time. And he loved it.

“Namu neulbo?” Sunggyu called out, finding the younger at the typewriter and staring blankly into space. He draped both of his arms on the other’s shoulders as he leaned in to inspect what the other had been writing. But the page rolled into the typewriter was blank. So Sunggyu shook the still thinking Woohyun gently and asked, “What are you thinking of?”

“A new story,” Woohyun mumbled through his hands resting in front of his lips. “I want to write a real novel. For adults,” he answered curtly as he was still in deep thought. But then he felt Sunggyu lean more on him, forcing Woohyun to physically feel the weight of his presence. The writer smirked. He might’ve been the child for longer, but Sunggyu goaded him to play and demanded more attention than Namu ever did. Woohyun lowered his hands and bent his head back to look at the other. He grinned. “You know, because I’m real grown up now.”

Sunggyu nodded and pulled himself off of the other, opting to lean against the desk so he could talk to Woohyun face to face. “Really?” he asked in mild surprise. “What is it going to be about?”

“First Love,” Woohyun responded quickly back.

Sunggyu snorted. “You’ve been in a relationship for awhile, and now you know everything about First Loves?”

It hadn’t been just a few months. Ever since he stepped foot into Reality, Woohyun had been learning about all forms of Love, not just of Firsts: A mother’s Love, filial Love, the greedy Love of material objects, etc. He learned of the divine yet mortal nature of Love. How it would blossom and flourish one day, but would often wither away and die, only to be born again in another form. It was an endless cycle of death and rebirth. However, for some lucky few, Love never died.

So Woohyun nodded, answering the banker’s question. “Yes, I’m an expert now on everything adult related, especially First Loves.”

“You know,” Sunggyu began, playing with the edge of Woohyun’s paper with his good hand. “First Loves typically don’t last,” he remarked, trying to play it off as an off-handed comment, but Woohyun knew better.

Woohyun grabbed that hand, intertwining it with his. He squeezed it, tightly. He wasn’t going to let go of it this time. “Then I’ll be the Man Who Never Gave Up On His First Love,” he declared.

“That’s quite a title,” Sunggyu retorted. “But it suits you,” he quickly added before Woohyun even thought of frowning.

The writer grinned and rose from his seat to kiss the other softly. “I know,” he responded after pulling away. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Even though he had finally grown up, Woohyun still retained his child-like, stubborn determination and his innocence, which has nothing to do with age or naiveté but everything to do with the purity of his heart and his integrity. And he purely loved Kim Sunggyu, forever his Captain, and forever his Neverland in his heart.

**Author's Note:**

> The next part will take place in Reality (oh and if it isn't obvious, Sunggyu is Hook).


End file.
